


The Loveliest Spot That Man Hath Found

by LithiumLullaby



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bath Sex, Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), Established Relationship, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, No Plot/Plotless, Praise Kink, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-12-09 10:47:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20993537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LithiumLullaby/pseuds/LithiumLullaby
Summary: With a sigh, Crowley took the basket of books from Aziraphale and brushed his hand soothingly through the Angel’s hair. The Demon scowled when he felt the mud still caking the white locks. Retracting his fingers he wiped the mess on his already dirty jeans.“Nevermind that Angel, you need a bath. Now.” Crowley moved the mopping Aziraphale into the surprisingly spacious bathroom.Crowley and Aziraphale spend a holiday in the Lake District, forgetting that it rains...alot. It's nothing a nice hot bath wont sort out.





	The Loveliest Spot That Man Hath Found

**Author's Note:**

> This is just porn that I wrote as distraction from the awful heatwave we had in the UK back in the summer this year. I also went to the lake district in April and I just know it would be a place that Aziraphale would fall in love with.
> 
> It's also the first time I've written Crowley as a bottom, I hope I've done him justice because he was hard to write!

Why they even bothered considered choosing the Lake District as a holiday destination was beyond Crowley as he trudged through the torrential downpour. All the powers they possess meant they could go anywhere in the world. If it wasn't for the way Aziraphale spoke so fondly of all the great writers that took inspiration from the un-spoilt landscape. Wordsworth was a particular favourite of the Angels, only just this morning he was agreeing with the poet’s description of the lakes as “the loveliest spot that man hath found”.

In all honesty it wasn't that bad, the day had started out nice at least. The Demon and Angel had taken up residence in the quaintest of cottages for the week. A beautiful rustic place, covered in ivy and within a short walking distance to the lake. This was the much deserved holiday they needed after saving the world.

Just before dawn, as the birdsong filtered through the valley, Crowley was snoring blissfully unaware. Aziraphale who had decided not to sleep, excitedly woke up the dreaming snake with a pair of picnic baskets in hand. Of course, one tartan covered basket was solely for his various books he had been insistent on bringing with him.

The lazy Demon protested at first, feebly trying to drag the Angel back into the piles of blankets that were his nest. The beautifully pleading, pale eyes were the fatal tactic that made him surrender his cocoon of warmth, anything to please his other half. A radiant smile that lit up the bedroom in response made it worth while.

Dappled sunlight peeked out from grey clouds as they walked down country footpaths to find a peaceful location to settle down in. Lovingly Aziraphale held Crowley’s hand while they strolled at a leisurely pace, each with a basket in hand. The red-haired Demon was grateful for the fact that these experiences were now a frequent occasion, no longer did they have to be careful of watchful eyes.

A modest hill with a scattering of old tree’s provided the most stunning views of Lake Windermere, Aziraphale suggested they stop here. Instantly, both baskets contents unpacked themselves with a snap. Fine selections of fresh bread, cheese and fruits spread out across the tartan blanket. Absolutely he could not forget the wine, Aziraphale smirked with satisfaction as he produced the rarest- Château Lafite, 1787.

The Angel settled with a glass and book, the blanket laden with cushions that Crowley was positive wouldn't have fit in the baskets. Joining the Angel, he lounged across the blanket, reclining against his lap and nibbling at the grapes. It was what some would call marital bliss, listening to the birdsong while Aziraphale read his book aloud to Crowley. It was then unfortunate that the pair forgot how unpredictable and wet the Lake District tended to be.

In the afternoon, dark clouds rolled in rapidly with the wind. The Heavens opening to a sudden hellish storm. A once beautiful day turned miserable in a matter of moments. Fat drops of rain fell in sheets, a strong wind blustering through the landscape. Aziraphale abruptly stopped reading and Crowley quickly ushered their way back to the cottage, picnic secured safely away.

Crowley was not a big fan of rain, getting soaked never appealed to him. As they neared the lane that lead to the cottage they hastened to reach the front door. Rain pounded heavily as the sudden storm increased in ferocity. The Demon frowned distastefully as his red fringe stuck to his forehead and his vision blurred from the constant stream of rain sliding down the black glasses. He decided he was unquestionably not leaving his nest for the rest of the week. Aziraphale would just have to put up with it and stay inside with him.

Snake print boots stomped through puddles while their owner brooded. Crowley just caught out of the corner of his eye, Aziraphale sliding across the mud. The Angel squawked, not for his safety, but as one of his prized books fell from the basket. Instinctively he tried to grab it to rescue it from a fate no book-lover would wish for but proved useless. The slippery road was disastrous. Crowley sniggered for second as he watched the Angel tumble forward, heading for a large puddle. However his laughter was interrupted when the Demon was wrenched forward by a desperate hand clutching his jacket.

Aziraphale had reached out to Crowley as he stumbled taking them both down, limbs tangling as they landed in the deeper than expected puddle.

“Oh, oh no...My book!” Aziraphale whined, holding up the sodden tome.

“Your book, Angel?! What about me!?” Crowley groaned, standing up and grimacing as he wiped the mud from his face. Rain still pelted the pair of them.

The Angel looked worse off, sitting miserably getting more soaked. His pristine white attire was unrecognisable, even his platinum hair was flecked with mud.

“Come on, Angel! For Go...Satan’s sake it’s getting worse!” Crowley pulled the mourning Angel out of the mud and marched them both home at a breakneck pace.

***

Crowley breathed a loud sigh of relief as they walked into the entryway of the cottage. Slamming the door he was satisfied about banishing the fowl English weather. Again, he really shouldn’t let Aziraphale pick the holiday destinations.

Walking through the hallway, dripping water trails across the wooden flooring. Crowley discarded his basket on the table, where he found Aziraphale standing in the kitchen. Still clutching the ruined book..

“This was one of my favourites, now it’s beyond saving...” Aziraphale complained.

With a sigh, Crowley took the basket of books from Aziraphale and brushed his hand soothingly through the Angel’s hair. The Demon scowled when he felt the mud still caking the white locks. Retracting his fingers he wiped the mess on his already dirty jeans.

“Nevermind that Angel, you need a bath. Now.” Crowley moved the mopping Aziraphale into the surprisingly spacious bathroom.

***

The blue and beige themed decor of the bathroom suited Aziraphale more than the snake Demon. Crowley sniffed distastefully, there wasn’t enough black in his opinion. Next to the window sat a large traditional bath with claw feet that he directed Aziraphale too. The Angel sat on the edge shivering, now feeling the cold, while Crowley fiddled with the taps.

Crowley noticed the book was still in his hands. He cocked his head to catch the Angel’s attention and offered a small smile as he gently took the book away. Aziraphale gave a somber smile back and began stripping his ruined clothes. By the time he got to removing the last of his clothes, Crowley had finished dumping a random assortment of lotions into the bath.

Pleased at the pleasured sigh Aziraphale let loose as he sunk slowly into the bubbles, Crowley took off his jacket and sat on the edge to massage shampoo into Aziraphale’s filthy locks.

“I’m sorry my dear, this was supposed to be a nice holiday” Aziraphale absently popped a few bubbles, relaxing into the Demon’s talented hands. Crowley never really liked the luxury of baths, not even during the Roman Empire. He would never begrudge Aziraphales love for them though. Crowley caught him on occasions spending hours relaxing amidst the foamy bubbles.

“You know I don’t do nice Angel, how about just a holiday instead?” Crowley smirked, pouring water over white lathered locks. Leaning in after Aziraphale wiped the water from his eyes, he placed a chaste kiss against the Angel’s lips.

“I think just a holiday will do fine...” Aziraphale kissed the Demon back enthusiastically.

They kissed for moments longer than possible for humans, exploring each others mouths with questing tongues. The Demon pulled back to nip playfully at the Angel’s lip with sharp teeth. Earning delighted, little breathy moans before he returned to another passionate kiss. Crowley felt wet hands grip his vest tightly, humming his approval into their shared kiss. Never he didn’t expect next the bastard of an Angel to pull him fully into the bathtub.

Limbs flailed, angry cries echoed throughout the room. One even more soaking wet Demon sat up in the bathtub in Aziraphale’s lap. He slicked back his sodden flame-coloured hair, removed his glasses and glared at the innocent looking Angel. However the unmistakable hardness he felt through his tight, soaked jeans derailed his annoyance. Oh? That was definitely an impressive effort, the Demon thought with a smirk. Even with the picnic ruined, Crowley was sure he could come up with something to make up for it.

“So that’s how you want to play it, Angel?” Crowley gave a gleaming devilish grin and a wriggle of his lanky hips.

Aziraphale blushed a deep hue, his cheeks and the tips of his ears tinged pink. Crowley miracled his ruined clothes away so that he was also naked. The water swaying around them. He sinfully pressed the entire length of his body closer to Aziraphale, gently rocking his ass against the Angel’s throbbing erection. The surprised moan erupting from the Angel was delightful, it sent shivers down Crowley’s spine.

Long fingers traced idle patterns in Aziraphale’s hair as Crowley left lingering kisses along the length of his alabaster neck. The sensation of the Angel’s plump hands sweeping down the expanse of his back to grip his slim ass was welcomed. Crowley bit the juncture between the Angel's shoulder and neck in response.

The resulting groan brought a wicked smile to Crowley. The grip on his ass became firmer and he felt the hint of a lubed finger brushing his entrance. Hissing with pleasure, he reached down to cup the Angel’s heavy erection and offer a few firm strokes as a reward.

Delighted at the whimpers tumbling off the Angel’s kiss-swollen lips, Crowley angled his hips so that his own cock brushed against the Angel’s. Moaning at the sudden friction, Aziraphale pressed his finger into Crowley, sending a lick of lightning arousal to the Demons groin.

Kissing languidly, they panted into each other's mouths. Unwilling to part. They took their time to extend the shared pleasure. Crowley was in no rush, so he lazily stroked Aziraphale and his cock together as he felt the Angel’s fingers match his pace. The feeling of being thoroughly explored and prepped was delicious. The slow burning fire setting all his nerves a light was just the thing he needed to warm up after the storm.

When the Demon couldn’t stand it any longer, the pleasurable ache caused his thighs to tremble. Muscles protesting at the angle he held, Crowley leaned forward and buried his head in Azirpahale’s neck. He kissed a hot trail up the Angel’s neck, determined to hear every pleased sigh he was drawing from parted lips.

“Take me, Angel.” Crowley whispered into Aziraphale’s ear, a hint of his forked tongue brushing the shell.

The sinful tongue had the desired effect, Crowley chuckled as Aziraphale quickly pulled his hips down over his erection. Expecting to feel the press of Aziraphale’s cock breaching him, the lack of pressure confused Crowley. He gave the Angel a worried look, but only found love and reverence reflected in his pale eyes. The intensity of it was so strong it almost made him blow his load early.

Unable to keep up with the waves of the emotions battering his heart, Crowley closed his eyes and slammed his hips down quickly. A pleased hiss fell from his swollen lips, he’d taken Azirpahale’s cock in one slide.

“Crowley…” Aziraphale moaned, the Demon’s name suspiciously sounding like prayer.

Determined to hear the sound again, Crowley set a steady rhythm of raising his hips. Slowly lowering himself back onto the aching arousal. Aziraphale brushed his skinny thighs under the warm water with feather-light touches.

“You have no idea what you do to me, Angel” Crowley licked his lips, tasting the musk of arousal in the air.

Crowley would never admit it out loud but he loved losing control in his Angel’s arms. The sense of safety Aziraphale created allowed him to express his desperation earnestly. Picking up the pace of his rocking hips, Crowley savoured the delicious slide of Aziraphale thick cock. He gripped the edges of the bath, panting his euphoria as it rocketed across his spine to his groin. A wail ripped from his demonic throat as Aziraphale sucked one of his nipples. Helpless, he couldn't stop the stutter of his canting hips.

“Ah, fuck, Aziraphale!” Crowley shouted as the Angel tried to push his hips up, the jostled movement caused the head of his cock to brush against the Demons prostate. Crowley’s weight pinned Aziraphale down so he couldn’t move much, but whatever he was doing with his limited movement was sending waves of heat through Crowley’s body.

Frantic moans fell from Crowley's lips, increasing in pitch as he approached his peak. He slammed his hips down harder. Taking in as much of the Angel’s cock as he could handle. The Demon leant forward while he wrapped his long arms around the Angel’s neck and brought their foreheads together. Azirpahale took the opportunity to steal kisses from him.

“You’re so beautiful. I love you.” Aziraphale softly whispered, brushing away strands of hair from Crowley’s face.

“A..Angel. I’m..going..I” Crowley voice cracked at the praise. He attempted to warn Aziraphale. A desperate keen left him when he felt Aziraphale’s firm squeeze on his leaking cock under the water. Hips thrashed, conflicted over seeking out the friction or slamming himself harder onto the Angel’s erection.

“You’re the most beautiful creature in all of creation” Aziraphale declared tenderly, cupping Crowley’s face to stroke his brand while his other hand kept up the pace of bringing the Demon to completion.

A broken, soul-rendering moan left Crowley’s lips. He screwed his eyes shut and laced his fingers tightly with the hand on his face. The orgasm washed over him like fire, every nerve singing with pleasure. Aziraphale’s words of praise always touched a part of him in the depths of his soul. The love branded onto his skin deeper than the mark on his face. Whimpering he felt the Angel follow him, Crowley felt his muscles inside squeezing the Angel’s orgasm out of him. A rush of andrenaline, a shared euphoria between them that they had denied themselves for too many millenia.

Exhausted, Crowley relaxed against Aziraphale’s heaving chest. The Angel peppered soft kisses in his wet hair. With a smile, Crowley tenderly cupped Aziraphale’s face in both hands and placed an affectionate kiss on his parted lips.

Aziraphale leant in with the intention to deepen the kiss however, Crowley instead lifted himself off his softening erection. Before returning to the satiated Angel’s embrace Crowley reached over the side of the tub. Confusion painted across Aziraphale’s face but Crowley just knowingly smirked as he produced the ruined book from before, in pristine condition.

“Read to me Angel?” Crowley handed the book over and settled himself again in the Angel’s lap. Aziraphale took the book, astounded. It took him a moment to fully register just what Crowley had done. The Demon took note smugly that the Angel’s expression was similar to the day of the church bombing in 1941.

When Crowley had gotten himself comfortable, the bath water had miraculously not grown cold. He was content as he listened to the soft lull of Aziraphale's voice continuing from where he had been interrupted by the rain.

_“She sang first of the birth of love in the heart of a boy and a girl. And on the topmost spray of the Rose-tree there blossomed a marvelous rose, petal followed petal, as song followed song”_

Maybe, just maybe, Crowley might accept a nice holiday after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos to those who knew the book was The Nightingale and The Rose by Oscar Wilde!


End file.
